


An Invitation Accepted

by ufp13



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-07
Updated: 2008-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ufp13/pseuds/ufp13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take-on of teh line from 'Dirty Hands'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Invitation Accepted

Upon entering his quarters, William Adama nearly stumbled over a high heeled, black shoe. One that looked as familiar as the pair he was wearing at the moment - not for the same reason though. He locked the hatch and looked around. A short distance from where he had found the piece of footwear lay its partner near a suit jacket near a blouse... his heart skipped a beat... the trail of clothing led to his rack... skirt, stockings, bra, followed by a piece of paper. He bent down to pick it up. It read: 'Got cramped. You weren't there to give directions. Welcomed myself." His glance wandered over to his rack where a corona of red curls flooded his pillow.

The sight made him smile broadly.

When he had uttered the invitation a while ago, he had meant it in the most innocent way possible; no matter how it had come out. However, even then, the less innocent interpretation had had its appeal. He just hadn't expected her to take him up on that offer. Nevertheless, he was faced with a dilemma now. Despite the trail she had laid, he wasn't entirely sure she would welcome his presence beside her on the narrow rack. Then again, she wouldn't banish him from his own sleeping place... yet, she was asleep, and he didn't want to disturb her, knowing that her amount of sleeping time equalled his which meant it wasn't nearly enough.

He was about to behave like a gentleman: leave and sleep on the couch when a hand grasped the material of a leg of his trousers. "Where do you think you are going?" A voice in a husky tone that bordered on the edge of seductive inquired. "I thought you were asleep and didn't want to wake you." He tried to keep his voice steady as she let go of his trousers, rolled onto her back and stretched. The movement caused the blanket to slide down so that it barely concealed her breasts. "Well, I am not," she deadpanned. "So, what are you going to do now that your assumption has been proven wrong?" Even in the half-darkness he could see her eyes twinkle with mischief. "I'll grasp a pillow and a blanket and get some sleep on my couch," he stated with all the resolve he could muster. "Don't let me keep you from that." She turned to her side, head propped on one arm, the other dangling over the edge of the rack.

He didn't know where he got the strength from to leave the temptress that lolled among his pillows, but as much as he wanted to jump her bones and make passionate love to the woman who occupied his dreams for a few years, he came to the decision that two could play the game. He wanted to see how far she would go, even though he had to admit that waiting in his rack naked was a move bolder than he would ever have expected of her.

"Sleep well, Laura."

"Oh, I think I will. Sweet dreams, Bill."

He took a deep breath. How could he possibly sleep knowing she was lying in the next room – naked?

A quarter of an hour later, he had made himself comfortable on the couch and switched the lights off. Staring into the darkness, he hearkened for a sound from the direction of his rack but encountered only silence. A sigh escaped his lips and his lids fell shut. Just when exhaustion had taken over and he was finally drifting off to sleep, his ears picked up a sound coming from his rack that sounded like a moan. Instantly, his eyes flew open. But no matter how closely he listened again there was nothing to be heard. He shrugged internally; his mind must have played a trick on him - wishful thinking. Bill rolled over and closed his eyes again, only to hear a moan shortly after. This time he was sure it hadn't been his imagination Again, he listened into the darkness and heard the rustling of bed sheets, followed by the distinctive sound of another moan of pleasure upon which his mind went into overdrive. It bombarded him with images of her body: the long legs, the swell of her breasts, the neckline, the flaming mane which he longed to bury his hand in to pull her head back and capture those sensual lips that teased him involuntarily during meetings in a hard kiss. From one second to the next the image in his mind switched, and she was bend over his desk, head thrown back while his hands roamed over her body from her hips upward, fondling her breasts, his mouth sucking on her neck near the ear to mark her as his; change of scenery, and three of his fingers were stroking her from within, thumb and forefinger of the other hand pinching a nipple, his tongue frakking her mouth.

His boxer shorts became more and more uncomfortable and restrictive, and neither the vivid fantasies nor the frequent moans from the sleeping area helped the matter. A groan escaped his lips, frustration its cause.

As if his mind had quit, his body moved on its own volition. His hands and arms threw the blanket back and pushed his body into a sitting position, the next second his feet carried him in the direction of his rack. They stopped dead in motion though when the mind cut in and processed the image the eyes were delivering of the occupant of the rack. Blanket pushed down to the feet, giving a rather clear view at her body. Head thrown back into the pillow, eyes shut, lips slightly parted like the legs, one of her hands playing with a breast, the other busy at the juncture of her legs.

Without conscious thought Bill reached into his boxers and stroked his erection, which had gotten unbelievable harder in the last few moments.

His eyes were fixed on the wanton redhead. His hand mimicked the rhythm of hers. Suddenly though, her hand went still, causing him to look up where his eyes were met by her green ones. "I see there was a change of plan," she smirked. "Care to lend this damsel in distress a hand? Unless you are too busy, of course..."

That was all the invitation he needed. Walking away once was one thing, walking away twice a totally different one, and as much as he liked watching her, he couldn't wait to touch the cream-coloured skin he had only caressed with glances so far. In the blink of an eye, he had crossed the short distance between them. However, when he reached out to run his hands over her heated body for the first time she slapped them away. "You're overdressed for this party," she answered the question in his confused look. "No way, I'll let you have all the fun on your own." Quickly he stripped off his tank and boxers, never breaking the connection of their eyes.

Meanwhile, she had moved over to make room for him but he sat down next to her legs, facing her feet.

His hands roamed along her legs, starting at the feet and moving slowly upward. He bent over to let his lips follow the path of his hands. "Bill," she moaned impatiently. With her fingertips Laura painted circles on his back, frustrated by the small amount of skin she was able to reach. She tried to sit up and remedy that fact, only to be pressed down again by a hand on her bosom. "Laura, please, grant this old man the pleasure of worshipping this adorable body of yours." He moved up and stroked her lips with his own, sucked on her lower lip, demanded entrance with his tongue, which she bestowed very soon after. With the duel of tongues the kiss grew hotter and more demanding. Her hands took the opportunity to map his back as well as other parts of his torso they were able to reach easily. Some time later, they broke the kiss reluctantly in the need of air. Faces only inches apart from one another, noses nearly touching, they were both panting.

Her lips curled into a big, warm smile, which he reciprocated.

"Please, just lay back and enjoy," he pleaded again, trailing a hand along the curve of her hips. She pulled him down for another kiss, this one lazy but full of promise and love. "I hope you realise what hardship I'm willing to endure for you," she quipped. "Go ahead, I'm all yours." She stretched and made herself comfortable on her back. Bill gave her a soft kiss of gratitude. "Thank you." Sliding down the rack he went back to the place he had abandoned earlier in favour of her lips.

After he had paid attention to each toe, he stroked, nipped and caressed her legs with his fingers and lips.

On his request she had turned onto her stomach. When he had reached the upper end of her thighs, he continued by massaging her buttocks; worked the muscles on her back, alternating the amount of pressure from powerful to soft caresses. Under his ministrations she began to purr. The sound got her a smiled kiss between the shoulder blades. As he trailed his fingers over her ribs, he brushed the sides of her breasts. "Turn over, please," he whispered into her ear. Wordlessly she did as he had asked. Her arms rested above her head, a dreaming smile on her lips which he couldn't resist to taste again. From there he moved down - her neck, her collarbone. He kissed his way around her breasts, deliberately avoiding the hard nipples, making her squirm. "Bill," she begged while attempting to direct his head where she wanted it most. He held her still though. "You're all mine, remember," he reminded her of their agreement before he planted a quick kiss on one nipple. "Patience, my love, patience." He couldn't help but smile at her resigned sigh. Then he focused all his concentration back to the topic at hand - literally. Just as he had done earlier with her legs, he now paid attention to the skin of her stomach, creeping nearer and nearer to her hot centre but stopping inches away from it. By then, Laura was hovering on the edge of blissful oblivion, and he hadn't even touched her in any places remotely known as pleasure points. Her whole body felt like it was a flame itself. "Bill, please... I need you." She tried to tug him onto her.

He glanced up to find an expression in her eyes he had never seen before. The normally green pools were nearly black under the half closed lids. The pleading they uttered was irresistible for him. He couldn't – didn't want to – deny her - him - any longer. He desired to feel her around him as much as she longed to feel him filling her.

The moment he took to come to that conclusion was one of inattention, which the redhead used to throw him onto his back. Holding his arms down next to his head with her own, she straddled him.

"Always the impatient one," he chuckled.

"No, overruling the military." She rubbed herself against his hard length. Her swaying breasts tickled his chest lightly. Unable to resist the temptation, he raised his head in an attempt to capture one of them with his mouth.

"Always the insatiable one," she imitated his earlier comment, playfulness colouring her voice. He groaned.

"It's your own fault for being so delectable."

She gave him a slow kiss. "Let's see what else this body can do than just being delectable, shall we?" Gliding down his body, she licked along the scar on his chest and further down until she reached his erection. Her breath teased his hot flesh but she made no further move.

"Lauraaa..."

"Yes, Admiral?"

How she managed to sound that presidential in this state of undress, in this position, in this situation was beyond him but he would never be able to hear her say those words again without thinking of this. Wicked woman!

As if to prove his point she chose that moment of his inner cursing to take him into her mouth and run her teeth along his length. His loud, surprised moan resounded in the room.

"Gods, woman, you'll be the death of me."

The vibrations of her chuckle only heightened his pleasure with force.

She sucked him hard while her hands massaged his testicles. His bucking hips signalled her that he was very near the border of physical enjoyment. A fact he obviously was aware of as well because he pulled her head away from him by her hair.

"Gimme a moment..." he was breathing shallowly. "As much... as I enjoy your... treatment... I want to feel the very core of you."

She planted one last chaste kiss on the tip before she raised and shifted forward. Balancing over his hips, she positioned him and sank down slowly. The enjoyment was plain, obvious not only on her face but in the manner her whole body arched.

"Gods, I missed this," she breathed out.

"Me, too. It's definitely been too long."

They both held still, simply savouring the sensation of one another for the first time in mutual silence, their eyes the means of communication. His hands found their way over her thighs to her hips, making a beeline to squeeze her buttocks before wandering upward to palm her breasts. The rough texture of his skin, the result of years and years of fighting, marked with scars, the price of survival; made her nipples tingle. She broke the eye contact by throwing her head back when she lifted her hips until only the head of his shaft was still embedded in her wetness. However, Bill followed her in the motion with a push, and his erection was fully surrounded by her once again. She wouldn't have any of that though and pressed him down onto the mattress. "Just lay back and enjoy." She winked at him.

This position had always been one of her favourites. To see the men under her at her mercy, to have the control over their pleasure, to hear them beg for what they so fervently desired gave her not only a feeling of power but also one of independence; if she wanted she could simply take her pleasure and leave them suffering from the frustration of dissatisfaction, though she had actually done that only once as revenge for him having fallen asleep on her another night. It had efficiently ended the relationship. Despite having no intention of doing that tonight, the sight of Admiral William Adama at her beck and call was an uplifting one nonetheless. He groaned but the grin that graced his facial features spoke a different language. To steady herself she put her hands on his chest – the fingertips on his nipples which gave her the opportunity to tease them – and began to move her hips in a slow rhythm.

The sound of the 'Symphony for Two Bodies' echoed in the room. A piece of modern dissonance yet as old as mankind. Flesh on flesh, the only instrument, bringing various kinds of sounds into being: slick slapping, moans, occasionally smacking of kisses. From forte to fortissimo, they soon neared the climax of the crescendo.

He hadn't been able to remain passive the whole time; she didn't seem to have minded though.

Each lost in the experience, they enjoyed the waves of the decrescendo, floating from piano to pianissimo to a stillness that was only interrupted by their attempts to calm their erratic breaths. He still lay on his back now, with her snuggled to his side, one leg thrown over one of his, one hand on his chest, head on his shoulder - a more intimate version of the position they had spent the evening under the stars of New Caprica in.

"I'm looking forward to serve under you for a long time, Madam President." Bill was the first to speak.

"What happened to the independence of the military, Admiral?" she shot back in mock seriousness.

"It just went out of the airlock."

That comment robbed her of all played sternness and left her in giggles.

"I'm serious, Laura, I don't want you to leave me."

"That's good 'cause I came to stay, Bill." She snuggled further into his embrace and closed her eyes, thereby missing the broad, blissful smile on the face of her companion who would spend the major part of the following night just being happy - and satisfied.

 

= End =


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